My boggart has been handled & the mortal ones appear to be gone. If you come across anything or anyone else out of the ordinary please assume it's a real threat until proven otherwise & inform SEC & Xenogen as soon as you safely can. You should visit Medical if you were at all harmed or affected by one of them, even if the effects seem to have stopped. If they've damaged the ship or your personal belongings, point me in the right direction & I'll do what I can to repair things. Sorry again.

Okay, so ignoring the fact that this has probably come up before I don't actually know what the answer is. But the pods - them not opening is pretty weird. I know everyone's concerned, especially if someone you know gets stuck in one.

( She's not experienced that side of it yet but she has been stuck in one now )

Why don't they open sometimes? Is the ship that broken and we're going to be permanently stuck one day or is it something else? Going in and out of them every jump is a bad enough experience without wondering what else you missed or what could have happened.

Has anyone died in one? Or had it never reopen? Other than when people disappear. Is there anything we can do for people stuck in pods? Other than give them a really good re-welcome when they get out.

Are we okay stuck in there or should I be worried about losing something? I know I'm at least picking a different pod next month. Just in case.

so people come and go all the time. i mean that's the message that everyone keeps giving out - you just arrive with no warning and then you can just disappear.

( Or some of the latest messages make that seem likely )

has anyone ever appeared that you'd never expect to see here? someone that shouldn't be able to be here.

( 'Someone that's dead' is what Elena really means. Dead dead. 'On the other side which is now destroyed' dead. Impossible. There might be a couple of people she'd really like to see if that was an possible option )

[rikku is lying in her bunk, the comm propped up on some scrap of metal beside her because she's too busy playing with her garment grid to hold it herself. she looks thoughtful, and gently runs the pads of her fingers over the spheres locked into the grid. the five of them, each a different color (lighter shades of red, blue, yellow, etc.), seem to glow with some sort of inner light. it's a very, very faint glow, but it's still there.]

How many of y'all have magic in your worlds? Like, not that hocus pocus "pick a card, let me saw you in half, i've got a dove up my butt" sort of magic. I'm pretty sure almost everywhere has that kind of magic. But I mean real, true magic.

[a beat]

Well I guess "real" is kinda relative, considering how many different kinds of magic there could be, but I think you get the gist. And if you've got magic--is it something everyone can do? Or do they need training or some kinda help to use it?

[ this month, elizabeth is all smiles—and it's neither forced not an act of pretense. she truly is quite altered from last month's angst now that her mother has awakened. her red hair is plaited with ribbons for the first time in months, and she is wearing one of the new gowns she has sewn with nuala. to a new arrival, it will appear as though she is seated outdoors, though she is merely relaxing by one of the streams which criss-cross the oxygen gardens.

her face is flushed with her joy, and it reaches her eyes to brighten them while she regards the camera with a barely-contained grin upon her face. ]

Greetings, fair Tranquility. How does everyone fare this month? I have a query to put to you all:

Once, I believe there was a tradition of large communal feasts being held here, be it weekly or monthly. And the good lady who held them has departed since, causing an end to it.

I would think she would find that a great shame, indeed. Thus I propose that we should hold them again, either weekly or monthly depending upon the preference of the majority of you, and that we take this opportunity to eat together and know one-another better. What say you?

[ she will even provide the music, if necessary! honestly, these dreams of home have rendered her a bit homesick for such entertainment and interaction with others. and here, she does not technically require to keep her true nature hidden from those she socializes with.

elizabeth hesitates, as though she believes herself to be finished, and then adds hastily: ]

One's memories of home begin to fade. One remembers certain things: the sound of the ocean, and the nighttime city, and a sky that isn't formed from sheet metal. One remembers, perhaps, the path one took to get home. One might remember the tune of one's favorite song. But the finer details slip away.

You know this place far better. The ship may be a mystery; it may shift without logic or reason; yet by this point is easier to grasp than our homes. We know the number of paces to get to side of the room to the other. We know the feeling of waking up from the Jump. We can't even hear the engines any longer because we know the sound too well. We can't remember the faces of our parents or our siblings, but we can summon the taste of those protein packs without any effort.

Is that why we continue on? Do we want to get back there? Do we want to see the sky again, walk the rooms of the homes we chose instead of the home we were forced to? Some might say yes, but there will be no real pleasure to it; when we wake up, if we wake up, it will be like any other day. Do we want to return to the good works we left behind? That's a fallacy, though, because there's evidence enough that everything continued on without us, uninterrupted. Time either froze, or time never missed us at all. Things progress as though we were there.

When I go back, I will turn into someone despicable. I've learned that from others. I'll forget everything I learned here, and I will bloody my hands. I will become a wretched man. And as soon as I arrive there, as soon as we're freed, that's where my life will begin again.

I've spent a long time trying to determine what unites us all. Perhaps it's a single, defining character trait: we're all brought here because we are irrational survivors. Because in spite of the fact that there is nothing for us here save dreary suffering, and in spite of the fact that whether we return home or not all things will be the same, we continue on. Against reason, against logic, we continue to struggle - for the sake of the memories slipping away from us, or for the sake of some absurd misplaced sense of duty, or for the sake of simple habit.

Provided we don't have some sort of space-ship- slash-world-ending-catastrophe, we're having a pool party after the next jump. Two days after. That's right, you heard me, a pool party. There will be snacks, music, and of course, swimming. [ she gives her usual chipper-i'm-in-a-party-planning-monster-mode smile. its charming, i promise.] We all need a little fun, I think.

If anyone wants to volunteer to help setup or has ideas or anything... I'm open to hear about them. [ mostly.]

[Private to Elena and Bonnie][ NEWS TEAM ASSEMBLE ] So... I know I didn't discuss but I figured you'd want to help me? It'll be something to do. [ something that doesn't involve the deeper drama going on the ship and their lives.]

[ Nathan wears his black bomber jacket and jeans, a rare occurrence for a video post. His hair is slicked back, he's made no effort to shave, and...is that a sword tied across his back. Yes, yes it is. He looks downright rakish, more ne'er-do-well than politician. ]

Let me bring all of you up to speed. If you haven't been watching the network in any detail recently, you won't be aware of the fact that our deceased friend and victim Felix Laurens took to the airwaves to speak to us, ostensibly because he had the information we needed.

Laurens, for those of you who weren't here at the time, commanded the Scylla and her crew, a ship of raiders - pirates - that attempted to strip the Tranquility more than a year ago, and caused most of the damage on our two hundred and fifty passenger floors, destroying at least one of them when the Scylla was ripped from our hull during the Jump.

Laurens was certainly helpful; he told us that the place we're approaching is called Arima, a no-good dive for pirates and villains of all kinds, who'd kill you so much as look at you. Whoever took that shuttle fled there, probably to try and find a way off the Tranquility for good, and if they can do it, there's absolutely no reason why we shouldn't be able to do it too.

Now I'm not saying it won't be risky. Hell, the universe out there might be more than we can deal with, but in two and a half years we haven't found a way to make this ship send us home. This might be the only way for us to break the cycle once and for all, and with it leave behind all its mysteries and its brainwashing, and the threat of death, disease or madness that hangs over us every day. At the very least, we need to find out who stole that shuttle, and why they thought it was time to abandon ship.

With Carolyn's permission, I'd like to volunteer to fly the first shuttle down there. Anyone who feels like they could offer assistance securing the landing platform, you'll get priority seating, and I'll attempt to use my experience to establish radio contact with the ship, let everyone know whether or not it's safe. For the rest of you, there's time to think about if you're ready to try and leave, and while we don't have many pilots left, there should be just enough to get us all down there. Even so, Laurens has made it clear that we shouldn't waste too much time thinking. We have days--four at most.

You all have an hour to make your decisions and pack. Do not wear your ship issue jumpsuits, and keep your tattoos concealed at all times. Come armed, and look tough. There's a chance this may be a one way trip, so anything that's precious to you should come along now; there's no knowing whether we'll have the opportunity to come back and get it.

------

Text (added two minutes after the video post goes live to the network)

Do not bring: horses, dinosaurs, heavy armor, large collections of animals, the entire content of your wardrobes, volatile chemicals/weapons/explosives.Watch this space for further updates.

Whatever idiot it was that just stole a fucking shuttle from the bay should be aware that I'm pretty sure you've just officially defined justifiable homicide and I wouldn't want to be you when Carolyn sees this.

Alaric Saltzman and Jenna Sommers went home. I know a lot of you were friends of theirs, and they were here for a long time. I'm sorry for your loss.

[ it's short, but elena doesn't really know what else to say. just that hurt to type, and she can't... she just can't. knowing what they're going back to, that jenna is dead and ric is going to go crazy and then die too... she doesn't want that for them, doesn't want to think about it.

for all the tranquility's faults -- and faults is putting it lightly -- she at least had jenna and ric. her family was mostly put back together, and it was safe so long as they didn't try to do anything stupid. now they're gone, and damon doesn't remember anything, and honestly, she just wants to go home. there's nothing here anymore that makes staying worth it. ]

[ hello, tranquility. it’s lucrezia and robb on your screen. robb’s holding her hand, thumbing lightly over her knuckles, grey wind sat at his side. his hair is still damp, curling wildly, but he looks content, gaze lingering on lucrezia for a long moment before he addresses the device. ]

If I could take a moment of your time, the lady Lucrezia and I have a matter to set before you. One I shall allow her to announce, as there’s a poetry in her words that I sorely lack.

[ and let’s not pretend this isn’t lucrezia’s show through and through, even if robb wasn’t his father’s son, too much a northman to do this announcement justice. ]

Sweet Tranquility which is dear to both of our hearts solely for its people -

[ and, you know what, wait a moment guys. it’s her show, which means she can turn and at least muss down robb’s hair since this isn’t legit. ]

We wish to invite you all, friends and families and those who wish to partake in our happiness to our wedding which will be held in the gardens. We would be honored to have you all as our guests.

[ she looks over at robb, all smiles. go on, you’re the king. he squeezes her hand in return, a small gesture. ]

We can offer you wine, and dancing, and my bride would delight in sharing both with all those who come in friendship and good will. [ which is a very thinly veiled, do not ruin this day or there will be hell to pay. ] We should hope to see you all in attendance.

Fellow passengers of the Tranquility,The loss of many of our friends in the previous Jump, while already a tragedy, leaves us in a situation of grave peril. Volunteer crew across the board is at an all time low. No one department is flourishing; even Security is working on a skeleton crew, spread further every jump, as new passengers are consigned to higher floors. Medical is overstretched; two doctors and two nurses trading shifts. The flight crew is crippled; there are less pilots on board now than are needed to crew the shuttles should we need to abandon ship. And agriculture, which provides our fresh food and therefore guarantees our survival, is struggling to secure the help of full time volunteers.

I must urge each and every one of you, old passengers and new, regardless of how you feel about your confinement here, or how little you think you might have to offer in way of skills, to give serious thought to joining a department. Skills can be taught, but nothing short of action now will prevent disaster. Our very survival depends on you.

Each of the ship's departments will introduce themselves and link to relevant materials below. Please wait until they speak, or contact them privately to address your questions to them. If you'd like to offer your assistance but don't know where to start, we will help you get settled in the right place. When you're ready, enter your signup information here to be granted relevant clearance. Your tattoo will change to reflect your new position.

[There's an alert sent out to every comms, stating GENERAL ALERT: EVACUATE MEDBAY followed by SECURITY ALERT: MEDBAY. Taylor's voice announcement comes after, obvious from the rhythm of her speech that she's already moving (running).]

Do not enter medbay. All passengers already in there are to evacuate immediately. This is an immediate security situation, and it will be enforced.

[FILTERED TO SECURITY | ENCRYPTED 95%]

I've had a report of possibly multiple explosive devices planted in medical. I need the area cleared of passengers, I need a perimeter secured and held, and then we're gonna need to start sweeping.

[Though what they're going to do if it turns out to be true is a bridge she'll cross when she comes to it.]

[ The comms device is on for a few moments, the picture bouncing around one of the rooms like a merry go round, before it finally it settles on a messy long-haired young man. His eyes squinting at the device for a few moments. Not in confusion, more in annoyance. The camera shifts again as he lowers the camera enough to rest on surface before he’s leaning forward.]

First of all. Fuck this place. And fuck whatever bought us here.

Because while wondering around in space sounds like a fun idea. It’s less appealing in practice.

[ His voice is slow and careful, there’s almost held back humour at the whole situation. Because of course this would fucking happen to him. There’s a lull in conversation there, as if he expects someone to answer him. With no answer he continues.]

Fine. Does anyone have a beer at least? Because this shit isn't exactly the easiest to swallow.

Out of curiosity, if someone were to have a certain...affliction. Does anyone have any idea what this fun little ship would do to it?

I never thought I would say this, but even I can't drink myself into tolerating this place. Other than people being stupid and making stupid choices that might or might not affect us all in the long run, is there any sort of entertainment here other than the booze?

Any at all?

[Salvatore Brothers]

So how is the polite way to get blood in this place? Or should I just bite the first idiot that seems easy to be compelled enough?

Look, I'm even bothering to ask.

[Ilde]

How is my favorite person in the whole ship doing? Not as bored as I am, I hope.

[Elizabeth of York]

How do you fare? Being much more of a lady than myself, I can't possibly imagine how this place has forced you to change your habits.

[ hey, Tranquility. Lucrezia Borgia's hair falls freely down her back today and her cheeks are rosy and her lips are smiling. though if you know Lucrezia Borgia, and many do by now, you would perhaps recognize something in her smile, a twinkle in her eye which is impish. ]

I have counted more than twelve jumps, near fifteen and my days on this ship had been many yet today I come to you with a plea, Tranquility.

[ notice the faux!serious expression on her face. ]

There is a man upon this ship who had promised me a most wonderful promise many months ago and failed to see it through. I do not know if it is a regular affair in this person's world to break a promise made to a lady but I have come before you seeking justice from him so he would see it done. Duel him, pester him, chase him down at my name, if you wish it. Only bring him before me or tell him to present himself to me and be given punishment for said offense.

His name is Sirius Black. He is taller than me with dark hair and mischievous eyes and a talent in magic and he had given me his word that he will hold a Christmas upon this vessel. I do not know the months but surely not celebrating it at all is worse than trying to. My Holy Father would say the attempt is as important as the result. I trusted Sirius Black with such and here I am, months afterwards and nearly married -

[ allow her to look very pleased for a moment ]

And not a Christmas in sight. That said, I call upon my friends to deliver him to me so we may settle this matter once and for all.

[This public service announcement comes to you from the security offices, and is delivered in a bored monotone. It's more a recitation than anything, really--Sirius is clearly reading off of a piece of paper. This fact is very clear, because he's holding up the paper, and you can mostly see it.]

Good day. My name is Mi-- Sirius Black. I'm a member of the security team. Unfortunately. All new arrivals, please do not hesitate to contact Miles Edgeworth, and not me, if you have either questions regarding security or if you are feeling distinctly masochistic and want to volunteer. He's always looking for new recruits and it would be really lovely if he had someone else to read things off of paper for him. And if you don't like reading things off of paper, and you're a military, law enforcement, or combat type, you can contact him as well. Just contact him. Give the man something to do.

Similarly, if you run into any trouble or find yourself in distress of any sort, which you most likely will, at some point, 'cos that's the way of things around here, kindly inform him, and not me, and he will swoop in to your rescue. Or organise someone to swoop in to your rescue, he's a terrific organiser. But he might just do it himself--I know it doesn't seem as if he will, but trust me, he will.

[Paper finished, he glances up. He's tired; it shows in his face, but he grins anyways.]

And now, because this wouldn't be the Miles Edgeworth Radio Hour without a survey--please answer this survey here and send a copy along to him as well so he doesn't miss out on the fun of reading your answers twice over. That's Miles Egdeworth, SEC » 007 » 114. He would just love to hear from you all.

[And he knocks off a salute, even though it's very lazy and he's slumped in his chair.]